


Weltschmerz

by TheRosenBones



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dorian Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Harding Is Too Cute For This World, M/M, Original Character(s), Sera Being an Asshole, Slow Burn, Solas Being Complicated, Solas Spoilers, This just sort of happened and I'm not sorry at all, Vivienne Is A Bitch And She Knows It, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRosenBones/pseuds/TheRosenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her mind is as sharp as her ears, which doesn't bode well for the Wolf in sheep's clothing. She hates the Game, but had no idea that they were playing it since the very first day. <br/>Fire shines brightest in the dark, but they are fires of rebellion. <br/>Oh how hard it is to keep the world from burning.<br/>Was it meant to be like this?-luck so bad it could only be fate.<br/>Din'Anshiral,</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Purely Sacrilegious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Lavellan Arrives to Spy

**T** wo men were standing at the gates of Haven. One was a slim templar in full armor sans helmet, while the other was a tall Quinari. Although an odd pair, they made a formidable presence. Lavellan walked towards them as her thumbs worried the edges of a piece of thick parchment. Through a bit of clever bartering and fast messenger crows, they managed gain approval from a cleric in Lothering. Considering how hard the town was hit in the Blight, any healer with abilities augmented by magic was a gift for the good of all. The invitation was almost suspicious it was so concise; it had more official seals than words.

_Send the Dalish surgeon to the Healers at the Temple to discuss the safe use of practical magic._

Lavellan stared at the letter in her trembling hands. " _You are curious, yet cautious. Be our eyes and ears. Learn which direction the human politics are swaying so that we might prepare.”_  Deshanna had smiled that night as they were planning, but the tightness around her eyes wasn't joy. They were all worried about the upcoming talks, and it showed. Although none of the clan spoke of it outright, the weight of current events was visible in each of them. The Keeper was no exception. Something had to be done about the state of the world, but the Dalish had little voice in the realm of politics. The only thing they could do was to endure whatever may come. The Keeper was keen on the idea of having an insider at the Conclave, but there was no way she could leave the clan to travel to another country. Alone. Thus, Emrys had gone in her stead to investigate. She was no spy, but that was precisely what she was doing.

“State your business.” The Templar ordered. He forced his voice an obvious octave lower to sound intimidating. The elf winced at his aggressive tone, and made sure both hands were on the paper as she approached them. It would do no good to have the man stab her before she even got into the Conclave. Although her staff was secure against her back, his fingers twitched as if ready to draw the savage daggers from his hips.

The Quinari man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, sighing at his partner. He too had a weapon on his belt. Although it was a blade as long as her leg, it fit him like a well sized short sword. A shield lay propped up against the stone wall behind him.  His eyes rolled skyward as he steadied himself for the inevitable confrontation.

"Hush, Samuel."  he chided, frowning at the templar. Turning to Lavellan, he gave a surprising open smile. "Welcome. Unfortunately, this is a closed event. If you have the necessary qualifications," he gestured to her papers. "You may enter. May I see that?" Lavellan nodded before walking over to the man. By the Creators he was tall. Her shoulders barely crested the pommel of his sword. As he looked over her credentials, she couldn't help but fidget. Standing within his arm's reach was a frightening place to be. He thumbed each of the seals and the ribbons, nodding in approval. It seemed to be a good sign. When he reached the bottom, he gave a hum and handed the sheet back to her. "It seems as though everything is in order. Quite some standing you have; personally recommended by one of the best medical researchers?"

Lavellan smiled as some of the tension washed out of her. The man's voice was a pleasant baritone that soothed her nerves more than a warm blanket on a cold day. "Thank you. It was quite a surprise when we got the request, to be honest. It's rare humans seek out the Dalish for help, so we are hoping that this is a sign for peace. Not only between races, but for mages and templars alike." She smiled at the both of them despite the fact that the templar Samuel still wore a frown. Even though the man had an impressive mustache, it did not hide his contempt. Perhaps it was because he was the only human out of the three of them.

The Qunari man hummed at her reply with a neutral sound. "Samuel, isn't your shift almost over?-could you take her to Adan's? I still have another hour or so until mine is over. Save a spot for me at the mess hall! I'll see you at dinner."

Samuel gave him pointed look, and Lavellan frowned at the two of them. The two were obvious friends. Despite the Qunari's friendly attitude, he still sent her off with the templar. She reasoned that it was only proper, seeing how she was a mage. Giving a half-hearted smile to the two of them, she stepped towards the heavy door. "Shall we? I don't want to take up your time if you are off duty."

The Templar's brow rose quizically as he reevaluated the woman. It wasn't often a wandering apostate mage was so friendly with someone from the Chantry. A Dalish, none the less. He passed her and pressed against the wood. Iron hinges creaked in the cold as a gust came down from the mountains. Snow blasted into their faces but for a moment before subsiding into a gentle winter breeze. Groaning, Samuel brushed the offending ice off of his mustache.

"...Welcome to Haven," he grumbled, but it was light with sarcasm.

"Not a warm welcome, that." Lavellan chuckled. Surprised, Samuel turned back to her with a small smile that creased the edges of his tired looking eyes.

"Come, the apothecary is this way."

To their immediate right was a small forge and stable. Since the Temple of Sacred Ashes was located in such a remote place, many pilgrims needed new shoes and tack for their horses. They went through another grand set of doors and up a flight of stairs. Although there were only a few small buildings and a Chantry, the structures were well kept. It was somewhat empty sans for the odd pair outside what sounded like a tavern. A mage and a templar both held wooden goblets of warm mulled wine close to their faces. Both were quite relaxed; there were no signs of hostility between the two of them.

"Yes but if we paired a templar with a magic child like you would a squire to a knight, there would be bonds that form. Mentoring environments!- rather than policing dangerous children."

"But what if they end up hating their mentors? Children always have a rebellious stage. What would that be like with someone with power?"

"True, but in this ideal situation, they would disagree but still be family. Make the bond a pleasant one!-actually. More things need to be pleasant in general. There is far too much hate in this world. Not so much love... it seems that the only thing people love these days are scandals and the act of hating itself. The struggle would be getting enough templars to be paired, and getting the rest of my Circle to agree to it."

"Hah! You're right. Personally, there are far too few templars. I think that's why most of the Order is so frightened of you mages. I mean, magic occurs naturally, but a templar needs to be trained."

"Plus, this solution ensures that the Chantry is still involved. Say villages do not have enough people to supply templars but have quite a lot of mages, raise the number to two or three per person. In a way, it is more direct control while also allowing for freedom. Not to mention, it keeps in line with the thought that magic was made to serve man. If we were to spin the story to reflect team work and gifts from the Maker himself..."

"Careful, that alone would be purely sacrilegious to more of the.. fearful templars. One would have to make sure to mention that this plan involves  _more templars_ for them to pass the idea into motion."

Lavellan couldn't help but smile at the pair as they passed, giving a slight wave. Samuel, however, failed at pretending not to notice the conversation. He merely marched on up the last bit of stairs and straight on to one of the cabins. The elf bit back a smirk and struggled to catch up to the man as her staff bobbed against her back. It was natural for him to be curious, she figured; the current talks would directly affect the both of them. By the time she made pace with him, he had already knocked. Although it was an average building, the door itself was flanked by two guardian dogs cast in bronze. For a moment, she mistook them as wolves.

_Ferelden. Not Fen'Harel._

_"Ah!_ Sam. What's the matter now?" Lavellan looked up with a start to see that a man had answered. Assuming the templar would introduce her, she decided to stay silent.

Samuel frowned at the man and let himself into the hut with a barely passable greeting. "Adan," The templar swept past the apothecary to stand near the fire and took off his gloves. Thrusting his bony fingers into the warmth, he continued. "We have another herb gatherer if you need one. Dalish too, if that helps."

Adan slapped a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. "Maker. That's... I need runners, not more healers. I'm nigh up to my beard in requests for things I have too many of. A headache tonic here, warmth balms. Easy things. I just don't have enough people here to deliver them to the tight laced folk up the mountain." The templar snickered and Adan shot him a look of contempt. "That goes for the Order too. It's the older crowd that complains the loudest over the smallest ails that aren't ails at all. Though, I'm certain the headaches are true. Maker knows how many _I've_ had with thisgoing on."

The beat of silence that followed was more than awkward to Lavellan. Were humans all this temperamental? Then again, this was a pretty stressful thing. She remembered the dark circles under Deshanna's eyes and thought it better not to judge. So she spoke up with a timid voice, "Sam and I could run it? I'll admit, my offer is entirely because I want to see the Temple. I know I will not be a part of the official talks, but I would like to visit-?"

"Can't. My next shift is only in six or so hours."

Adan frowned at Samuel. "Night watch in the forest again? Be sure to layer. Either that or put more meat on your bones."

The templar smiled ruefully. "I've tried, but this is as large as I'll get no matter how much I eat. Nobles must hate me. Actually. That is another reason why I can't go to the Temple. Don't do well with the self-important types. Piss me off."

The alchemist frowned deeper "Takes one to know one, Trevelyan." He then turned his gaze to the elf. "Well. I hate to send in someone who has no idea where they are going. But you can get your wish if you are up to the task."

"Certainly-!"

"No. Not yet. I need a name first. I'm not going to call you 'elf' when I need you. If you are going to be working here, you are going to be pushed hard. But if someone calls you a knife ear, tell them to come to me. Don't be _too_ kind to these people. They will only see your ears and think you a servant, so do not act like one."

Stunned, she could only nod. "...Emrys."

Adan gave her a smile, but she did not know that the sight was rare to see. He then walked over to a chest in the corner of the room and retrieved a small package wrapped in cloth. He handed it to Emrys with care, and she felt cool glass vials beneath the fabric. "Give this to the Divine's attendant. Say it is from me, and _do not_ approach the Divine directly. That is as close as I can get you to the action, and about as close as you want to be to that whole mess. Trust me." To Sam, he gave a stern look that softened to something resembling compassion. "Sleep after you eat. You need it."

The two visitors nodded, and quietly left.


	2. The Silence Was Violent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Shit Gets Weird

 

 **T** he Qunari man was looking out of the small window at the tavern. Every patron but Sam knew that he was not paying attention. Occasionally, he would make a noncommittal grunt whenever his companion paused. Sam pouted and carried on anyway, gesturing with his free hand violently. “No, really. We’ve only just met and she volunteers me to go with her. _Ugh_. She’s nice, but almost _too_ nice if you get my meaning. I mean. What are her motives? Did you pick up on that, Vytautas?”

At the sound of his name, the warrior looked at the templar’s face to gauge his mood before replying.  “It’s probably because you’re a knife happy templar and she’s a little Dalish mage. Anyone would be super nice to you while your hands are itching to stab them.”

Sam huffed and took a gulp of his tea, exhaled deeply, and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Okay. But, wouldn’t she be more timid if that was the case?”

Vytautas sighed quietly and rubbed a large hand over his tired face. He loved the man like a brother, but they also bickered like family. Now was no exception. "She had all the official seals and the attitude to go with it. It's clear that she's had some training with negotiation. Maybe one of the Dalish leaders?"

Samuel scowled. "Why would the Dalish want to be a part of the talks?"

"Easy. This affects anyone with magic, even those outside of the Circle. If all magic were to become outlawed, wouldn't you want to be there to have a say in it?" Distant thunder punctuated his words with irony. The two sat in silence, listening to the coming storm. The din of the tavern immediately turned to quieter whispers. Batten down the windows at the Chantry; it sounds like it’s going to be a bad one. Ice. Wind. Do you have enough blankets for the servants quarters? Vitautus resumed staring out of the window. He could still see the dark clouds rolling in, even over the mountain range. His full lips tightened to a thin line as his eyes sharped.

Sam noticed Vytautas's expression and leaned across the table. "What's wrong?" he whispered. "You look like you've seen something."

The Qunari's jaw tightened. "Is it just me or am I just reading into things?-that sky doesn't look like a storm coming in. Too much thunder for just some ice and snow."

The templar inhaled a sharp breath as he stood, nearly knocking the stool over in his haste. His leather soled shoes were silent on the wood as he skipped over to a window. Sam threw aside the shudders, uncaring if they hit the walls. But, his aggression died the moment his eyes caught sight of the same thing Vytautas had saw. "That's... it's over the Temple."

Some of the other patrons began to stand as well, clamoring to see what the two guards were on about. The bartender put down the glass she was polishing to bring a hand to her lips. "Is it the mages?"

Sam looked back at the woman with a wince. His brick-brown eyes appeared redder than normal from the colour draining from his face. "Get everyone inside the Chantry; it has the most solid foundation. Pray, and hope the stone walls protect you." 

Immediately the frightened citizens clamored for the door like panic halla. The two guardsmen exchanged a wordless look and drew their weapons, ready. Vytautas was the first to exit, holding his shield before them at the ready. The air, charged with a strange energy, seemed ready to shock anything that so much moved a muscle. It hadn't been too noticeable indoors, but it was obvious something was wrong now. The feeling was even worse for the two considering their metal armor. Goose-flesh spread over their arms like fire to oil from the static. 

As they walked through the town, Samuel was pleased to note that his orders were followed. From the amount of people on the move to safety, he assumed that most everyone had evacuated. His thoughts of others halted when Vytautas's arm bared him from movement. Samuel froze on the spot, looking around for a threat but found none. Instead, he only saw concerned golden eyes bearing down on him.

"What?" he hissed, adrenaline forcing his heart faster. "See anything?"

"...you should go to Cassandra and warn her. I think she's still interrogating that dwarf in the Chantry cellars. She might already know, but they will need you there. See if there are any folk left in the huts still before you do though."

"But-" Sam started to object, but was cut off with a firm shake of his friend's horned head.

"You're faster than me. I can guard the town itself if you can run them to shelter. Go."

Samuel's brows knit in stubbornness. It was clear he didn't want to leave the man alone, but he also had a duty to protect the people from harmful magic. Torn, but steadfast, he held out his arm for the other man to shake. Vytautas accepted, and their armored forearms met with a muffled clang that felt too loud for the tension. "Fine." he grumbled. "Just promise me that you will survive this."

"Only if you do the same, brother."

The templar gave a soft smile, but the worry in his wide eyes was obvious.

The Qunari watched the lithe man run to the houses with a sigh of relief. Sam was a good fighter, but too willing to fight. It was safer to put him outside the battle than to risk him overstepping himself into danger. Vytautas paced the town, sword and shield ready for what may come. He watched the templar dash in and out of homes. At the last one, Samuel emerged with a child. He stuck hand up in a sign that they were all clear. Vytautas returned the gesture and gave a breath of relief. One less worry. His friend then ran to the Chantry, child bobbing on his small, but strong back.

The warrior stood alone, positioning himself in guard at the foot of the road leading to the Temple. Whatever was causing this was going to have to go through him first before it came to the town. His stance was savage and fierce, yet the grace of his training gave him solid footing. He sent a quick prayer to whomever god was listening, wishing to spare his life. Although Vytautas was not a religious person, the amount of things that could go wrong... He feared the worst. So many mages at a tense meeting such as this?-who knows what they could do if negotiations went south.  Before his mind could even complete the plea, a force knocked him clean off his feat. Quite an accomplishment, considering his size.

Elsewhere, a certain apostate who was _very_ good at avoiding templars started. He stood, stumbling from his bedding. "No..." His breath left him, diaphragm clenching with terror and guilt. And so he wept for the world a second time.

Flashes of green cut through the night, reflecting off the snow in a dazzling array of color. All sound ceased, sans for the ringing in Vytautas's ears. Bleary and disoriented, the warrior opened his eyes to see a sky changed. Pure hell rained from above, centered around the Temple with an ominous whirlpool. He wasn't sure if things were being sucked into it or ejected out. Up was no longer down; pieces of stone floated to the heavens while pieces of... something fell down. 

Swearing, he clutched his ears and rose to an unsteady sway. The static that was present before felt as if it had discharged in a massive explosion, but the result did not appear to be storm magic. The longer he looked into the abyss that was somehow above him, the less it made sense to him. "Shit," he swore in a wheezed whisper. Even from the distance he was at, he could tell there was little left of the Temple to the west. Glancing back at the Chantry, he was relieved to see that the building was still intact. The way forward?-rubble had scattered across the bridges and roadways. _Things_ crawled from glowing spots on the earth. Demons? Darkspawn?-he couldn't tell. But, Vytautas knew that pressing on alone was certain death. Best to regroup, then. He placed the shield at his back and took off at a sprint towards the makeshift bunker.

This had become a war.

A woman rushed out of the doors of the cathedral with a shocked expression. She pushed her hood down to her shoulders, eyes glued to the mess that was the sky. Her bright red hair blew about her face as she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the foreign light.

"Leliana!" he cried out, pushing his strides to be faster.

The woman turned to him, lips parted but possessing no words. For all the composure the former bard was trained to have, her reaction was one of sincere fear.  That is how Vytautas knew that shit was really, _really_ bad.

"Report," she commanded, but it wasn't a forceful order.

"Something happened at the Temple. I don't know what, but Samuel and I felt it building at the tavern and evacuated to here. I stayed to watch and stave off... well. Whatever that was." He shook his head in disbelief, clearing his thoughts. "Demons or darkspawn might have taken over the path, but I can't be sure which. They just appeared from the ground in a green light; the same as the one in the sky."

"You think they are connected?-the explosion and the... demons?" Darkspawn was hard for her to say. She didn't want it to be true; one encounter was enough thank you very much.

"Happened at the same time, same sort of magic. Yes. Could it be something the mages did?"

Here, her expression turned dark as the scale of the catastrophe hit her. "...was there anything left of the Temple?"

"Not from what I could tell, no. We should gather a scouting team."

Her frown deepened into something truly frightening. "Yes... yes, we should. Gather a few men and report to Cassandra. I will lead reconnaissance. Send Samuel my way when you go in, I will need a strike team if... if the demons get too close."

Vytautas bowed his head and passed by her to follow out his instructions.

* * *

 

 **A** n hour later, newly appointed scout Harding raced through the forest, a bald elf hot on her heels. They ducked and weaved behind the trees to avoid the demons as best as they could. The small dwarf dashed to cover behind a rock and threw herself against the stone. "The last elf we let go freely about camp made the sky explode. Sent her up to the Temple and it explodes within the hour." she hissed bitterly. "I hope you can understand why Samuel still has the staff you gave up. Don't get caught by the demons; you have no way to defend yourself and I only have so many arrows."

The elf's jaw tightened, and he gave a terse nod. "Would you mind if I cast a barrier for the both of us?"

Lace's eyes narrowed. "You can cast without a staff?"

"Yes, though not well." 

She judged his expression for a moment, but found him to be sincere. "...fine. Just don't tell Leliana. I don't fancy being flayed by claws, but I also am under orders to not let you do anything suspicious."

He gave a slight smirk before closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. Harding swore that there was a light that shone behind his lids, but she wrote it off to be something mage related. It was rare to see anyone cast without a staff considering how dangerous it was. Without a focus, casting magic was chaotic, yet he completed the spell with relative ease. She supposed the talent came from being a Hedge Mage, rather than Circle raised.

"Demons are more active at night," he whispered as the barrier washed over them. "I wanted us to be prepared. Although your original team has made it through..."

"The demons continue to fall at random, cutting off paths. You don't have to remind me." Lace grit through her teeth.

"I suggest we keep as close to the mountain as possible. The riverbed seems to be overrun."

Harding's lips went to a thin line as she considered their options. "Fine. We get you to Cassandra at the Temple, collect information, and then leave to regroup at the Chantry."

He nodded before chancing a look over their rock to plan their path. "I should take the lead if I am to be casting."

The scout's eyes widened at his attitude. "I... You would do that?-I'll have every opportunity to put an arrow between your shoulders."

A sad smile crossed his face. "Indeed, and precisely why I suggested it. As I am a suspect and stranger, it is better if I give you the position of trust rather than the other way around."

She clutched her bow tightly as she considered her options. The barrier swirled around them with benevolent lights. She could feel its strength, and the warmth it gave. What sort of mage was he that he could hold off the cold night?-right. Hedge Mage. Harding supposed that this skill would have been useful in the wilds. "...okay," she began, drawing a large breath to steady her nerves. "After you, Solas."

He nodded severely and watched the forest. The elf shifted his weight to the balls of his bare and waited for the right moment. After checking that it was clear, he leap from the rock to dash over to the cover of a thick tree. He repeated this a few times before Harding followed him. It was an odd dance. Each step he took was like a careful waltz, but with the stealth of a hunter. Lace suppressed a sigh. No wonder he was good at avoiding templars, if he moved through the woods like that.  They did not have a single encounter, making their journey faster than she thought possible.

"Oh Blessed-some soldiers have the doors secured. That is a direct path to the Temple. Without that, we would have to skirt around through the entire river." She leaped onto the path and shot her hand into the air to signal the doors to open. After a moment, a loud thatch squealed as cold hinges swung open to herald them.

"Harding?" a soldier spoke.

"And the volunteer mage. Is the way in safe from here?" Harding walked at a fast pace through the barricade and waved for Solas to follow.

The Qunari soldier nodded with a grim expression. "Yes, but at a high cost. We have lots of casualties; this is just... who we could find." He gestured to the wrapped corpses behind him and Harding gave a sharp intake of breath.

"I see. Thank you, Vytautas." Although her voice was calm and controlled, tears began to leak from her eyes unbidden. She was of the gentle sort, despite the personality she had shown in the woods. The soldier's hand found its way to her shoulder, and the three stood for a moment. Solas occupied his time staring into the sky.

"...I believe it is a hole in the Veil." he said quietly, startling the two.

"What?" Vytautas exclaimed in a deadpan tone, fingers tightening on the scout's pauldron.

Despite the somber setting, their size difference was somewhat comedic to the mage. Instead of giving voice to his thoughts, he continued. "Whatever magic was used at the Temple created a hole in the fabric of the Veil itself. What we see there," Solas pointed to the green,"Is the Fade, and spirits falling out of it."

Harding shuddered, thankful for the steadying touch the warrior gave her. "Wait 'till Samuel hears that."

Vytautas winced. "...and Cassandra. Shit."

"Speaking of Cassandra, should we get going?" Solas folded his arms to warm his hands, but the gesture was interpreted by the two as impatience.

"Right. This way," Harding said as her face flushed slightly.

The three passed through the garrison and quickly made their way up to the summit... or what was left of it. Something jewel-like twisted angrily in the center of the crater  as Cassandra and her forces watched.  Samuel perched on what used to be a wall of a grand entryway, watching their approach.

"Good to see you, Vit, Lace, and..." he glared at the mage.

Harding frowned. "Stop it. We don't even know what happened."

Sam directed his glare to the dwarf. "Can never be too careful, you know." The phease made the Quanri man flinch; he was the one that has checked the Dalish'a papers after all.

The two held their gazes for a moment in anger, but Lace decided to nip the argument before it could start. "Solas," she smiled timidly. "Any insight? Do you still think it's..."

"Yes," he breathed. "I am certain of it now." The odd group couldn't help but look up at the monstrosity above them; it was even more awesome and terrifying up close.

"How do you suppose we close it?" Vytautas asked, his voice quiet.

"I'm unsure, though we must do it quickly. It is not uncommon for spirits to slip through where the Veil is thin, but this is on another scale entirely. This is a literal hole to the Fade."

"Wha-" Sam stuttered.

"...so we must act quickly before anything else can fall through. What we have seen are simple wraiths and some demons of Despair and Rage. I dread something more powerful coming through-"

As if punctuated by his words, the green thing _shifted._

"Get down!-"

"Andraste guide me," Sam whispered fiercely as he clutched his daggers. "Andraste save me."

The fade sparked, and Solas's eyes widened as he watched with baited breath. He was too stunned to move.

"Solas?!" Harding pleaded, trying to pull him to cover. Her armor bit into his skin hard enough to bruise, but still, he did not flee.

"Is that," he began. As the rift shifted again, he pushed Harding aside and _sprang_ into a full on sprint. His toes ripped on the harsh ground, but he didn't care. He had to make it.

He was just in time to catch a girl as she fell out of the Fade.


	3. Determined Are The Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are going to shit

Vytautas's boots made a visible line in the snow as he paced in front of the door. He had been at it for an hour at least, and there was no sign of him stopping. Every few steps, his hands would clench so hard that his knuckles turned bone white with the strain. Teeth ground together as his emotions overcame him. Guilt, worry, and fear coursed through him as violently as the summer rapids down the mountain. It was starting to give him a headache, but his adrenaline was such that all pain became secondary. It was still there, but the situation at hand drew his every thought.

With each pass by the door, he could hear glimpses of the heated argument within. The loud voices of Cassandra and Samuel clashed against Adan's blistering words. They only paused to catch their breath before resuming the shouting match. In the brief but awkward minutes of quiet, Vytautas could hear the gravel of Varric's words. Solas was much harder to hear; his even voice was soft, but contained an obvious edge. Although different in tones, they all expressed some level of malcontent.

Who wouldn't, considering they sky was falling apart as they spoke.

"The explosion went off within the hour of you sending her up there, Adan! And Vytautas!-how in Thedas did he just let her in-"

"Why not ask him?" came Sam's cutting reply. It was a nasal sound that bit straight through Cassandra's sentence. "Or, did you not want to bring him into these talks because he might turn savage? Racist."

Vytautas paused his pacing to listen further.

Cassandra grunted a firm sound of disgust. "No. Just that he is at fault for letting her in."

The healers' building once again went silent, sans for the pathetic whimpers of the unconscious accused.  Emrys was alive, but they were not sure how long she would last. Although she had came out of the Fade whole, something about her had changed. The faint, eerie green light echoed under the door onto the snow, casting a sinister glow around the threshold.

“We should perform a holy smite!” Sam shouted. His voice broke with terror.

Someone growled, and panicked footsteps hurried to her side, blocking the light from Vytautas. A gasp came from whom he assumed was probably Solas. The soft curse that followed it was _definitely_ Varric.

“No. When the Rift expands, the mark on her hand reacts to it. Simply, it is killing her, and _this?-_ isn't working," Solas said with a frustrated snarl. Although it wasn't directed at Adan, the alchemist took it as such.

" _Well!_ Obviously. What do you suggest then, if you're so _observant_?"

Once again silence reigned, this time broken by a deep inhale. It sounded like someone was trying desperately not to lash out. _Solas._ Vytautas concluded. The fact that the elf hadn't cracked under the pressure was just short of a miracle. Considering current events, Haven was not too fond of elven mages and their anger showed. _"_ It was not a slight, merely that medicine is not working." There was another swear from Varric. "Perhaps the cure lies in magic?-with your permission, Adan. Cassandra, I will attempt at finding a way to keep her alive."

"...it's that bad, huh?" Varric sounded timid; his jovial tone lost.

There was shuffling after a pause. A soft blue light cut through the green. Vytautas assumed Cassandra had said yes, for this was beginnings of healing magic.

"So what, we save the mage's life by using another mage? What if they are agents to whatever caused this?" Sam blurted, his armor clinking as he gestured wildly.

" _Vallem hamin,"_ Solas hissed. The blue light flickered. "I cannot cast without a staff if you are shouting."

"Solas has been cooperative thus far, Sam. If only to get a confession, I will allow him his staff." Cassandra's voice was solemn, trailing off onto a thought before continuing. "Please fetch it now, I am not sure how long she has left otherwise. However, we should isolate her to another building before we attempt anything further. The quarters outside the gates will do, if she is able to withstand the move."

Seconds later, Samuel burst out of the cabin with a stormy expression, only to freeze at the sight of Vytautas. "You've been here the whole time?"

Solas began to rise from his crouched position near a cot that the warrior assumed was Emrys's. Cassandra's shoulders tightened as her lips pursed to a thin line. Varric, wisely, backed away from the incoming confrontation.

"I had to," the Qunari man said with conviction. "I had to know."

Cassandra's eyes softened, though her posture hadn't forgiven the man yet. Instead of leaping to conclusions, she motioned for Sam to follow them away from the cabin. Once far enough to give the mage privacy to begin his work, she turned to the two guards. "Before you go Sam, I need to know if Vytautas followed protocol. Did he check papers?"

Sam's eyes widened. Asking him to vouch for a friend on a matter this grand was no small request. He did not once look back at the Qunari, and his back straightened with pride. "...yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. She had all the qualifying invitations and was polite to the two of us."

The woman winced, and folded her hands in a movement like the beginnings of a prayer. "So they got in legitimately. Sam, while you are getting the staff, be sure to relay this to the Nightingale."

His face paled. That name was only invoked when the spymaster had to play dirty. "Yes. I will update her on the situation with the healers as well."

Cassandra gave a grateful smile to the man, and Vytautas swore he saw Sam blush ever so slightly before leaving. In any other time, he would have commented and laughed, but it wasn't appropriate now. The Seeker watched the other man leave, but soon turned her attentions back on the warrior with a renewed intensity. "If you are truly without guilt... I..." she gave a heavy sigh that sounded like she had lost her confidence. "I will need another warrior to watch her; we have lost much of our men in the attack. While I am reluctant to send you, I know that you are exactly the one needed for this. Make your guilt a weapon and guard her well. I know there will be attempts on her life once this is made public."

Vytautas gave a focused nod.

"...and ask Varric too. I am certain he will agree to the task."

 

* * *

 

 

"Any news?" Leliana didn't have to look up to see who it was. Nor did she have to clarify her meaning. There were few people in Haven that walked as quietly as she herself did.

Harding frowned, closing the flap of the makeshift tent behind her. It was more or less a sheet of heavy cloth thrown over a few sticks and crates. The 'table' that served as their base of operations sat in a corner. Although it was made from a broken door and two barrels, it held Leliana's weight as she leaned over it.

"I am not sure if Solas sleeps or not, to be honest. Between stabilizing the girl and fighting demons, there is hardly a moment I have seen him rest. It's only been three days, but he has done more than what an average person can in a fortnight. He also confirmed that each time the Breach expands, so does the mark on her hand. Every bit of research he's done has been recorded for you to read." Harding frowned, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Be sure that he does rest, then. Remind him that he isn't immortal and we need as many able-bodied mages to try and seal the Breach."

"Yes ma'am."

Leliana stood as a thought struck her. "Actually, the same goes for the Qunari man, Vytautas? He might feel like he is restoring his honor by being a sentinel, but we need to be ready in the event that this gets worse."

Lace grimaced, nodding once more.

"... and you too. Your face is pale. I see too many freckles." The Nightingale's smile was warm, despite everything.

"Yeah. I... I will. Thanks." Harding couldn't help but smile before she turned to brace the cold once more. Stopping mid step, she gave a hard look back to the former bard. "Hey. You too, you know? I know you're sort of my boss, but..."

Leliana laughed lightly, but it was genuine. "Thank you, Lace."

The dwarf’s smile grew. She reached to move the flap of the tent but there was a fellow scout in her way. He was bowled over trying to catching his breath. Whatever he bore was urgent. Harding gasped and rushed to his aid, providing a shoulder for him to brace himself on. After a moment, he waved her off and came up for air. That mustache was unmistakable.

“Sam?”

The Nightingale materialized beside them, watching carefully. The two were only recent acquaintances, but they worked together well. Sam had attended the Conclave as a noble-born templar for the Order, but Leliana had recruited him as an informant. His skills were more suited to hunts in the dark rather than forward combat.

Sam nodded, pulling his hood down. “Pardon, but I have news. The prisoner is-”

Leliana rushed pass, sprinting towards the quarantined hut without any qualms about leaving the two behind. Harding’s mouth parted in shock as she exchanged a look with Sam. The man let out a whoosh of air that turned into a snarl.

“What should we do?”

“Keep this as quiet as possible. I know that people will see Leliana and assume the worst, so be prepared to pull double shifts on the watches. I don’t want to foil another assassination attempt. Adan will not shut up about it.” He shook out his fingers, trying to warm them.

“Sure. Why don’t you take the first shift?-Vytautas should be there right now.”

He gave her a grateful smirk and turned to walk briskly to the village gates. Already, people were cautiously watching for signs of something stirring. Sam’s face turned blank as he settled into a mask of confidence. The moment the outer wall's doors shut, he too broke into a run. It wasn't long before he reached the secluded building. Lithe and long-limbed, his body was made for sprinting. Soon, the cabin was within sight; the Qunari’s profile unmistakable as he guarded the door.

“Status?” Sam panted.

Vytautas’s face turned grim. “Any minute now. She was stirring. Speaking even. It sounded nonsensical, but it’s definitely more coherent than the last three days.”

The rouge fingered the hilts of his daggers. “Should we have more men?-what if that isn’t _her_. Abominations are bad enough, but that’s just possession. She was in the Fade. We have no idea what we are dealing with.”

The words made Vytautas’s eyes widen. It wasn’t often Sam was actively scared of something; he always hid it behind layers of personas. “True, but at the same time, what if she’s innocent?-some are saying that Andraste delivered her. You saw the glowing person. We could be labeled as the next Hessarian if we aren’t careful.”

Sam pointed to the door to divert the touchy topic of religion. “The hedge mage in there?”

The tactic worked, causing Vytautas’s expression to brighten slightly. “No, but he had good reason to. Varric thought that he was overworking himself so he suggested a good round of demon slaying.” His smile turned to a wince. “They’ll need to be told. Take my shift here?-I will fetch them.”

Sam nodded, smirking. “Who knows. Maybe the two need help. You might even get a good round of demon slaying too.”

" _Ugh._ Don't jinx it."

 

* * *

 

 

The woman's glare was frightening Emrys. The scars on her face made for an intimidating presence, made worse by the sheer amount of anger in her eyes. Her hand was killing her. What was wrong with it? A hooded woman paced the room, watching her like a vulture circling dead meat. And she was dead meat. They really, really hated her and she had no idea why. Sam was present as well and looked even more ready to stab her on the spot. Wonderful.

Emrys decided that offering her help was better than insisting that she was innocent. Each time she told them that she had no motivation to _kill the entire Conclave_ , they only glared more at her. What had happened, anyway?

"It would be easier to show you."

It seemed like the whole world looked at her and saw her guilt, Cassandra only confirmed it. Emrys said she wanted to help, but what good was she now?-an invalid convict with weeks to live? It could be days for all she knew. The last pulse felt like a halla had kicked her hand. Several times. All the more reason to offer her help. If fixing the Breach saved her life, there was no questioning her stance on the matter.

They walked at a slow pace due to the 'Mark' exploding in white-hot fire every time the sky flashed green. Getting to the first bracade felt like an eternity. It was simply a bridge, with wooden doors and staves. Bodies lined the ramparts, smelling of ozone and fresh blood.

Just as they were halfway across, light exploded from the sky and hit one of the support columns. The bridge held for a moment, but soon collapsed into pieces. Down they fell into the frozen river, and as fate would have it, the poor elf landed on the hand that bore the curse. _Fenedhis._ At least the ice held. Swimming in freezing water while fighting off demons did not sound pleasant, never-mind the injured arm.

Defending the Seeker’s flank was the worst pain she had felt in her entire life. She had grabbed the staff by instinct and blasted fire in the face of a Terror demon that had flanked Cassandra. Emrys was impressed; the warrior didn't even flinch or look back at the mage. Instead, she squared up and charged the next with enough force to send it flying. Though they worked well together, Emrys could feel that her magic was vastly different. The staff felt right in her hands; it was what she had trained with. But, it almost felt like the spells she cast didn't _need_ it anymore. Within moments, the only things left of the demons were their still-smoking remains.

Even though she had resigned and offered to give the found weapon to the woman, they had come to an agreement. It was clear that they couldn’t make it to the forward camp by themselves; they had to work as a team.

"They're falling from the Breach!"

The river banks swarmed with wisps that fired bolts of energy at the two of them. Terrors sprang up from ghastly fires that shot like geysers from the ground.  With a snarl, Emrys zeroed in on a stray wisp and cast a simple lightning spell. It _arced_ , dancing across the field. A few Terrors got struck and promptly exploded into gory bits.

"What was _that?_ " the Seeker gasped, cowering slightly behind her shield.

"I think," Emrys swallowed thickly, ears still ringing. "I think... I'm not too sure. I'm terrible with offensive spells; that should have just gone to a single target."

Cassandra stiffened. "Don't let it hit me." she ordered.

Nodding, Emrys slowly put away her staff. "I think that was the last of them, though."

"Agreed. The forward camp is just beyond this hill. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to cut as much canon dialogue as possible, especially when it comes to events set in stone.


	4. One down.. how many to go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first rift is sealed and Varric instantly becomes a good friend.

Solas's face contorted in a fit of anguish as the sky shook once more. It was the expression of a man who saw the end and could do nothing about it. The world was literally falling apart at the seams and everything they had tried failed. Miserably. No. They had to find a way to close the tear in the Veil. Keep trying. One more attempt to close the breach. The elf flung a fireball at a far off wisp, instantly sending its essence back to the fade.

Ir abelas.

 A shout drew his attention, nearly causing the man to jump at the sudden yell. Instinctively, the mage stomped and dug his toes into the ground, gathering mana within him. Left hand reaching out, he cast a barrier over the others. It was good timing, too. Vytautas had screamed, drawing a Horror from Varric. His brows knit together in concentration as he poured more energy into the cast. He had to make sure this spell would be strong enough for the oncoming skirmish.

 Behind the warrior, another explosion fell from the sky like a comet.

 Damn. More demons.

 Shouting a warning would only distract the man from the Horror at his front. A flailing skeletal arm swung forward, and Solas tensed. Thankfully, the sharp claws bounced off harmlessly. Good. It was working.

 Varric was firing bolts as fast as he could load them. His calloused fingers soon turned bloody from the abuse of the strings, but each shot rang true. The dwarf wasn’t aiming at the creature in front of him, Vytautas had that enemy engaged. Instead, he was picking off more of the green wisps so that the rag-tag group was safe from ranged attacks.

 Solas blinked, clenching his staff tighter. Breathing in a deep breath, he stabbed the bladed end into the icy ground. He felt the cold of the earth beneath him and channeled it to the foe that circled Vytautas. It froze in an instant, but quickly broke free of the bond.

 His magic was so weak. The mage felt his heart plummet further as their odds nose-dived to dismal statistics. At this rate, he suspected that the world possibly had a year at most to survive before the destruction would be too hard to reverse. There was only so much he could do, and it wasn’t nearly enough. He could barely keep pace with the current skirmish as it was. What good was he to try and fix this problem?

 But his musings were cut short with yet another yell and he cursed himself for letting down his guard. Combat was so new to him!-he should be better. Tensing yet again, his heart hammered away in his chest, drawing his breath short.

 Before he could turn to the new threat, lightning struck with a noise that nearly deafened him. It danced across the battlefield, utterly vaporizing the chilled enemy near Vytautas.

Cassandra let out a yell of her own, she was here thank the stars, and charged into battle to cover Vytautas’s flank. Confused, Solas whipped his head about to find the source of the other spell. It certainly wasn’t him; he wasn’t capable of calling down storm magic yet.

 A blur whizzed by him, misty and immaterial, straight towards Varric. Thinking it was a spirit, he threw up another barrier around the dwarf with a yelled warning.

 It reached out, growing arms to brace for impact with the real world. Out stepped a woman, a very familiar woman, staff in hand. Immediately, she began casting. Her hand reached through the Veil and it answered her with a familiar soft green glow. A barrier washed over the entire party, pure and strong, from the Fade itself.

 The shock of it nearly made Solas wept, his emotions conflicted.

 “....’bout time you got up,” Varric grumbled, watching her with a wary eye.

 The Dalish girl glanced at him, but did not respond. Instead, she turned her focus to the battle and threw a slew of offensive spells that shouldn’t be possible. It was real lightning, but it also had the power of the very memory of storms behind it. It wasn’t just manipulating energies in this world, but channeling the concept of them into more power. 

 An ancient technique, accidentally handed to an ignorant child of a mage. How far the Elves had fallen.

 "Can you fault me for nearly dying?" she sneered, but it was followed by a shaky laugh that took all of the bite out of her words.

 It was her vulnerable tone that brought Solas back to the present. Her rounder face made her twenty-five at most, but even that was generous. She was young, but determined. The sight of her made his breath catch with a sudden realisation. If she lived and her magic was altered so, perhaps they could use her marked hand to seal the rifts? Gathering his turbulent mind to something akin to focus, he shut his thoughts away and rushed over to her side.

 “Quickly, before more come through!”

 Without waiting for a response, he grabbed her arm and brandished it towards the small rift. Time seemed to stand still. Closer. Please, let this work. Mercifully, the gap responded and snapped shut with a sharp crack. He sighed deeply, shifting his staff to his back.

 “What did you do?” Emrys’s eyes narrowed at the apostate warily. How astute!-although misguided.

 “I did nothing! The credit is yours.”

 She frowned, staring at her hand. “...you mean to say the mark.”

He gave a terse nod. “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake - and it seems I was correct.”

 Cassandra sheathed her sword, eyes wide with something that looked like hope. It was the first time in weeks that the expression had surfaced. “Meaning, it could also close the Breach itself.”

 Vytautas felt his adrenaline spike. There might be a solution to this after all.

 “Possibly,” he folded his hands humbly before him. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

 Emrys bowed her head, unsure what to do with such a heavy statement. While it could as well become true, the words felt odd to her. It was almost as if he was shifting the entirety of the focus onto her. What was he hiding?- it seemed like he knew far too much about this strange magic.

 “Good to know!” Varric grumbled as he inspected his hands. “I’d thought we would be ass-deep in demons forever. Damn. Forgot my gloves.”

 Emrys turned to the dwarf, a smile fighting its way to her lips.

 “Varric Tethras: Rouge, Storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” The latter was said with a wink towards Cassandra, and she rolled her eyes in response.

 Confused, Emrys frowned at looked at him intently. He didn’t strike her to be the type to listen to long political talks, so she hedged a leading question. “Are you with the Chantry or…?”

 A laugh that seemed condescending in its briefness sounded behind her. “Was that a serious question?”

 Ah. Solas had caught on. Although his face was full of mirth, Emrys did not laugh with him in the joke. She decided that it was safer to play ignorant, given her position.

 “Technically,” Varric coughed. “I’m a prisoner like just like you.”

 Affronted, Cassandra scoffed. “I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine.Clearly, that is no longer necessary.”

 Vytautas winced. The pain of numerous deaths still weighed heavily on him, it seemed. The Seeker’s stormy expression softened in apology.

 “Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events.” Varric shrugged.

 The metal of a bolt-head reflected green at the gesture, catching Emrys’s eye. “Lucky indeed,” she agreed. “That’s one hell of a crossbow.”

 His sly grin brightened in pride. “One of a kind, Bianca, and thank you. Before you ask, no, her maker is long dead. Found her in an abandoned cache long ago.”

 The Dalish girl chuckled. “Wasn’t going to; I’ve never used on in my life. Glad you have it with us, though. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

 Cassandra stepped forward, glaring at Emrys. “Absolutely not,” to Varric, “Your help is appreciated but-”

 “Have you been in the Valley recently, Seeker? It’s a mess. You’ve lost too many men and I’m willing to help. It’s simple: you need me.”

 She was quiet and still for a moment as she made up her mind.  With a sudden gesture, she turned and stomped off “Ugh.”

 “...well, that wasn’t a no,” Varric grumbled, but his Cheshire grin gave away how much her decision had pleased him.

 “My name is Solas, if there to be introductions.” Emrys turned as the other mage approached her. “I am pleased to see you yet live.”

 “Oh?-”

 “He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’” Varric smiled fondly. “I was there for it too. You’re a lucky one, kid.”

 “Oh.” Emrys blinked, staring at her hand. “I… thank you. I’m not sure how I can repay you..?”

 “No need. You can thank me if we manage to seal the Breach without killing you in the process.”

 That brought her thoughts to a grinding halt. Emrys clenched her marked hand tightly, heart sinking.

 Solas continued, “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power. In fact, her spells seem affected by the mark itself. This supports my conclusion that she is a victim to whomever caused this; innocent.”

 Emrys caught Varric’s eye and they shared a smile. It seemed like both of their ‘crimes’ were lifted!

 “Understood,” Cassandra said, glancing at the former prisoners. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.” She then walked off, not even bothering to look back at the rest of the group to see if they were following. Vytautas filed in a few paces behind her, shield on his forearm in a relaxed stance that allowed for a quicker draw in the event that more demons spawned. Emrys stood still, nerves eating her resolve.

 “Come,” Solas beckoned, leaning on his staff. “We must attempt it, regardless of the danger.”

 The gentle smile was meant to comfort her, but it did nothing for Emrys. “You said I could die in the process. I am dying slowly as it is.” She shook her cursed hand, swearing softly. “Being reminded of my mortality isn’t a fun thing, you know. I’ll go but… give me a moment to enjoy the fact that you think I'm innocent.”

 Solas blinked and his face turned to a blank mask. “Ir abelas, da’len.” He turned and walked away at a slow pace.

 “...well, Bianca’s excited!” Varric said with a cheery grin. “Let’s go, kid. We can’t all be heroes, but it’s easier with a team. I’ll be with you!-Team Wrongly Accused? No, that’s a terrible name. I’ll think of one on the way.”

 Emyrs couldn't help but laugh. It was weak, and nearly brought her to tears, but his words did help some.

 “...thanks Varric.”

 "Anytime, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bah. So busy. I try to write at least a few paragraphs a day, but I'll admit that there have been nights where I just pass out after work. Oh well!-such is life. And yes, I know much of this chapter is pulled directly from the game, but I really do enjoy how characters are introduced in the series. Kinda wanted to keep the tone but add a bit more to it?-I dunno. There will be more original content in the coming chapters, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how often I can update; my work schedule is kinda wonky for the next few weeks.  
> But rest assured, it will be on my mind quite a lot.  
> Also, some of the original characters are Inquisitors pulled from friends' game states, but they do not have the Mark in this story. I felt that I needed more than just the canon cast to really write behind-the-scenes moments for the sake of world building. Permission was granted.


End file.
